


Without Me

by cumslut69



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, happy ending not guaranteed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumslut69/pseuds/cumslut69
Summary: You have returned to Hogwarts as an adjunct professor and find yourself drawn to your old potions master.
Relationships: Professor Snape ! Reader, Professor Snape & Reader, Professor Snape x Reader, Professor Snape/Reader, Severus Snape ! Reader, Severus Snape & Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, Severus Snape/Reader, Snape ! Reader, Snape & Reader, Snape/Reader, snape x reader - Relationship
Comments: 85
Kudos: 298





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick warning: I do have a healthy number of original characters, mostly student one-offs and a few other adjunct professors. Nothing too intrusive, mostly for plot foil.
> 
> I'm also using the school term as a rough timeline, so chapters will be dated by months and occasionally by day. 
> 
> Otherwise I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. ♡

**_August 1990_**

The cart rattles noisily as it rumbles through the halls leading to the dungeons. You hum softly to yourself trying to ignore the tickle in your nose. The cold mildewed air had always irritated your allergies. 

You reached into your pocket and grabbed your wand as you reached the potions classroom. A flick of the wrist had the large old door opening wide and you maneuvered the cart through, just missing the edge of stone that was upturned at the doorway.

“Ha! Not this time ya sneaky devil.”

You lead the cart to the furthest wall where the shelves of ingredients and tools were neatly stacked. 

“Okay let's see… Six mortar and pestles, two boxes of porcupine quills, four carafes of salamander blood…”

You trailed off as you cross-check everything on the list with what was on your cart, taking a seat on the edge of the closest student table. 

“Looks good. We should be nice and stocked for the first few months at least.”

You let out a sigh and laid back on the table.

Only a week before Hogwarts students filled the halls and still so much to do! You had no clue how much actual work went into preparing every course and every class behind the scenes. Not something you really paid attention to when you had attended Hogwarts.

In any case, it just felt great to be back. And as an adjunct professor, you could now traverse the entirety of the castle at ease. You could enjoy all the history and magic the ancient castle had to offer without worrying about homework or deadlines. Especially without fear of being caught after hours.

“What exactly are you doing?”

The deep baritone triggered a visceral reaction; your blood turned to ice and you shot up. 

That deep, dark, moody voice- you recognized it immediately. There at the doorway was the familiar form of Professor Snape, standing imposing and giving you a hard cold look. Oh yes you remember him. It was like stepping back in time, from the billowing pitch black robes, the trail of buttons cinched up tight all the way up to his throat, leading to the irritated scowl on his face. He hadn’t changed at all. 

“Oh Professor Snape! You startled me.”

Snape looked at you suspiciously, but you continued lightly. 

“I’m actually glad to have caught you. I’m just finishing up the list of supply requests you had sent to the head office, but I wanted to double check a few things with you.” 

He ignored your words, still looking at you warily. “You seem very familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

He took a step back at the laughter that erupted from you. 

“How embarrassing,” You smiled sheepishly. “You were my potions professor for years and you don't recognize me at all.”

Snape arched a brow at that and shifted, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m [Full Name]. It's been about five years since I graduated now, so I understand if you don’t remember me.” 

“Now you’ve returned.” 

“Yes. I’m technically an adjunct professor. With the influx of first years and returning students, the Headmaster felt everyone could use extra help. I’ll be floating from department to department as necessary.”

“Ah, a glorified underling then.” The snide tone dismissed you and he turned to examine the materials still on your cart. 

Anyone would, understandably, be indignant at his rudeness, but since leaving Hogwarts you had dealt with people like him. Besides, you were too happy- too thankful- to be back in the safety of the castle walls, to let your crotchety old professors' attitude get to you. You weren't a student anymore- like it or not, now you were colleagues.

You gave him a smirk, “What can I say? I live to serve” and shoved the parchment and quill into his hands.

Snape narrowed his eyes but took the list. With hardly a glance at its contents, he began scratching onto the bottom of the page with the quill viciously.

“Everything looks in order but, of course, you wouldn't mind if I request a few minor additions, would you Professor?”

That made you want to groan. Potions was the most supply-dependent course at Hogwarts. It had taken you a month to get the supply cupboard into order with all the work you’d been doing in the greenhouses, helping with the magical creatures, and reorganizing the disaster in the divination department. 

“Here you are Professor [Last Name].”

Snape accented every word, left it dripping in sarcasm, and held out the parchment to you.

He wasn’t exactly smiling or smirking, but the smug self satisfied look on his face made your face burn as you took back the list. You weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Not a problem, I’ll get right to it Severus!”

He sneered at your familiarity, but you were out the door and out of sight before he could say a word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I haven't named my chapters? It doesn't bother me now, but maybe I'll go back and add them later. 
> 
> I try to keep the specifics of the "Reader" character vague, but I do a background for the relationship they (you? lol) had with Snape and what you've been doing since graduation ect. 
> 
> I'm trying to show it, over just having a paragraph explaining the character- more will be revealed over the next few chapters. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! ♡

**_1 September 1990_ **

The quiet of the long halls in Hogwarts castle had felt eerie when you had first returned. Everything seemed so much more ominous in comparison to the bright and loud memories of your school years here.

Now as the castle buzzed with activity, you realized how comforting and tranquil the stillness of the empty castle had become.

Nevertheless, it was worth the loss to see the activity of the returning students. They were being filed into the Great Hall by year and by house, directed by heads and the prefects. 

You sat in the left corner of the faculty table at the front of the hall with the other professors and staff, and watched with excitement. As a student, you never could have imagined how thrilling it would be to be seated here.

Glancing over at the group of students of your own house, you were happy to see most of them seemed like a good bunch- seated and eagerly awaiting the start of the ceremonies while still catching up with friends.

That's when you noticed Snape scolding a few rowdy third years by the door. 

Really, already starting the disciplining? They just got here- give them a break! You shook your head and looked away. 

It made you glad you had kept to yourself in his classes as a student. Seeing the others around you harshly, even cruelly, disciplined- even the favorites from his own house- had exacerbated your shyness. 

All your other classes had nurtured you in some way and made you more confident as a witch. The pity was that Potions was the class you had the highest hope for. Your natural talent for it had shone even as a child, where make believe games of healing and cursing had turned into secret experiments and bottled elixirs in recycled glass jugs.

You nudged Earnest Cribbe, a fellow adjunct professor, who was sitting beside you. “What do you think Earnest? Have we done enough to prepare for this many students?”

He smiled and threw up his hands, “They haven't even brought in the first years that have to be sorted yet.” 

“How was it preparing with Flitwick? I’m guessing it was like coming home to an old friend.” 

The new handful of adjunct professors that had been brought in had each been assigned to two or three different departments, depending on the perceived need. The regular Professors served as heads of departments and worked with the adjuncts to fill in and support during the term as necessary. Earnest, having excelled in Charms, was naturally assigned with Flitwick; with a smaller role in Transfiguration. 

You had been the only one of the group to take seventh year N.E.W.T. classes in Potions, so that had become your primary department. And because potions needed so many ingredients you were also involved in Herbology and the Care of Magical Creatures.

“Well Filius and I kept in touch, so your right on the money,” Earnests’ eye shone brightly, “While we were working on lesson plans, he agreed to let me teach a few classes of my own!”

You smiled and congratulated him. “That sounds wonderful Earnest. What an incredible opportunity!”

The glowing look on the younger wizard's face poked at you. Yes, you were happy for him, but unlike the friendship between Earnest and Flitwick, the only time you had spoken to Snape was that encounter in his classroom a week ago. You couldn't imagine he would ever let you teach a class of his.

Earnest cleared his throat noticing your expression, “I’m guessing you haven't been getting along with Snape?”

“I can't really get into it with someone who has almost totally disappeared.” You shrugged and took a quick sip from your goblet. “I haven't seen him in a week, so who knows what he’s got planned. I just made sure all the equipment was ready and everything was stocked.”

It was Earnest’s turn to nudge you. “Speaking of.”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the potions master himself stalking towards the faculty table, eyes locked on you.

“Good evening, Professors Cribbe and [Last Name]. Excited for the new year?” 

You weren’t sure if he meant to sound as sarcastic as he had just come off, but Earnest answered cheerily. “Oh yes Severus, we both can’t wait to get started.”

Oh Earnest please don't so he can just leave. You didn’t want to ruin the ceremonies with Snape’s attitude.

But Snape wasn't going to leave in peace. 

“I noticed Professor,” he started turning his dark eyes on you, “I seem to still be missing quite a few items of inventory. I hope the pressure hasn’t gotten to you before the term has even begun.”

You forced a friendly smile and ignored the wide-eyed look Earnest gave you.

“Just a few things left, Professor. Not to worry, you’ll have them by the end of the week!”

“I do hope so [Last Name],” his voice dripping with sarcasm, “This sort of incompetence does not bode well.”

Seemingly satisfied with thoroughly embarrassing you, Snape walked further down the table and took a seat next to Professor Hooch.

Your face burned with anger and humiliation, keeping your eyes locked on the plate in front of you. 

“Yikes, that was… wow. Maybe it was a good thing he keeps to himself huh?” Earnest shook his head and took a large swig from his goblet. 

You gave him a terse nod and stayed quiet for the rest of the feast, standing and putting on a smile when Dumbledore introduced you and the other adjuncts to the school.

It was astounding how fast Snape was able to turn your whole mood around. The familiar childhood bubbles of anxiety grew at the pit of your stomach.

He was right about one thing at least- this did not bode well for the term to come.


	3. Chapter 3

**_September 1990_ **

You took a cautious sniff of the dingy brown vapor that rose from the large glass jar. Sharp and sour, the thickening liquid still had a hint of vinegar from the pickling solution.

“Still no good,” you mutter and screw the lid back on tight. 

Red Banded Caterpillars had to be pickled in a strong solution- it kept them usable for many months and countered the effects of their natural oil secretions. A good way to tell if they were ready was to smell for vinegar; fully pickled caterpillars would have neutralized the scent of vinegar completely.

It wouldn't be much longer now- only a few more days- but you dreaded having to face Snape.

Since the start of the term two weeks ago, after his little tirade at the opening ceremonies, you had been avoiding him.

“Him and that stupid list.” you grumbled and stowed the jar away.

All the crazy additions he had requested previously had been a massive undertaking to complete in just one weeks time. Dehydrated bat spleens, porcupine quills, doxy eggs- things that he wouldn't even need till the second half of the term after the winter holidays! 

Of course you had considered going to Dumbledore about it, but no. It was going to be so much better to show up the crotchety Potions Master and stroll in with every silly thing he had demanded. 

“Well it would have been great if it wasn't for these stupid caterpillars that refuse to be pickled.”

The first attempt at pickling had ended before it started. You had stopped by Hagrid’s hut for tea after harvesting a bucket of caterpillars. Unfortunately, one of his creatures had gotten the lid to your bucket open and eaten every single caterpillar.

Once you had finally managed to get a fresh batch, the big jar you had planned on using was cracked. In fact, all your big jars had mysteriously been cracked and rendered unusable. 

Fine no big deal, you huffed. We’ll use the slightly smaller jars. It’ll be a pain but it’ll get the job done. Then you found the big jug in the supply closet you had thought was vinegar was actually lantern oil. Filch threw a fit about it, because it was apparently the jug of oil he had been looking for and was convinced you had stolen it.

You sighed deeply. All in all, it had been a nightmare to get the damn things going. 

“Well at least I have the fairies wings nice and neatly pressed.” Not that it had been much easier. Wrangling fairies and harvesting their wings was delicate work. You grabbed the large box off the table beside you and patted it gently. “I’ll just give him these and after that I don’t care anymore. He can get as irritated as he wants- potions isn’t the only class I’ve been assigned to!”

* * *

A chill settled into you as you turned a corner into the stone hallway and you sneezed miserably. The dank moldy air of the dungeons always caused a reaction, the moment you stepped foot into the hallways leading to them. 

You'll make this quick. Just drop off the wings and go before he gets a chance to be cruel. 

“Professor Snape?”

You try the door but it's locked tight. He must be in his office.

A quick charm unlocked the door to the pitch black classroom and you quickly put away the box in the supply closet.

Now down the narrow corridor on the other end of the hall. And sure enough, a faint light glowed from under the door to Snape’s office.

You raised your hand to knock but he beat you with a sharp command.

“Stop dawdling out there- come in!”

Snape sat behind his desk with a stack of papers and a pot of red ink. Corrected parchments were strewn around the desk between three more stacks of work. On the floor, two boxes were filled with labeled bottles.

His brows were knit together in concentration but his dark eyes were slightly glazed. The dark locks framing his face were messy and frazzled.

“Professor?”

He didn’t bother looking up at you, his eyes drifting across the page in his hands. 

“Yes [Last Name]?” 

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to start. Ugh, it felt like you were back in first year potions. This was precisely the reason you tried so desperately to stay invisible in your classes with him. As much as you loved potions, his ability to make you feel small- just saying your name with the perfect amount of spite- forced you to turn your passion inward and to stay out of sight.

When you didn't respond he put down the parchment he was working on. “Was there something you needed, Professor [Last Name]?” he repeated in an icy tone. 

“We'll, it's about the last few ingredients you requested Professor. I know it’s taken a couple extra weeks, but I’ve left the fairies wings in your classroom. It’s just a matter of waiting for the pickled caterpillars….” you trailed off when you noticed the raised brow. He didn’t have a single clue what you were talking about. 

The absolute nerve! You could feel your face flush; he treats you like some green first year, is rude and condescending, humiliates you in front of your colleague just to be spiteful- all for him to forget completely and make you feel like a fool for trying to finish your work.

The scowl on your face said it all and he rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. 

“[Last Name], while I am just delighted to know your capable hands are able to prepare the most rudimentary of ingredients, I am very busy.” He rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and dragged a hand through wispy black hair. 

When Snape looked back down at the parchment his eyes seemed to glaze over again, and you now noticed they were bloodshot. The amount of new students combined with Snape’s harsh curriculum, he was well behind on grades. Not being able to gauge at what level each class was at made tailoring his course difficult- it would be useless to try and teach the students any potions at all if they didn't understand the basics of the ingredients and brewing.

“Is all this work from just these last couple of weeks?” You reached out to grab a parchment from the desk but the look he shot you made you drop your arm back down.

His attitude wouldn’t deter you though; this wasn't right and you weren’t going to just drop it. Dumbledore had taken you in and trusted you with the work of teaching the students. And if the stubborn dungeon bat had made a mess out of his own need to be a vicious professor then fine. But you weren't going to let the students suffer for it. 

You set a firm look on your face and stood up a bit straighter.

“Professor Snape, I absolutely insist you let me help you with this. Potions is my department too, and that means working alongside you to make the term and the work go smoothly.”

“Really, well, if you were any good they would have just let you take over wouldn't they? Maybe given you a class of your own to teach?” The deep drawl of his voice felt almost threatening.

That made you wince and take a step back. How was he so good at hitting where it really hurt?

“Like it or not, I AM a professor assigned to your potions department. Dumbledore has enough faith in my ability to assign me here and that should be enough for you to trust me to help you. And while I might not have been at the top, I did succeed in your N.E.W.T. potions class. At least you should be able to trust what you've taught me.” 

You breathed deeply to keep calm, grateful that your voice hadn’t betrayed the emotion you felt, and turned to leave. 

Well whatever; if he wanted to suffer all year long then let him. 

He called out your name when you reached the door. 

"Every Monday through Thursday night. You’ll be in charge of grading the work of the first, second, and third years under my supervision.”

This was your job. This was why you were here. You had quickly garnered a reputation of reliability in the weeks leading up to the new term; the other professors had no problem entrusting their students and their work to you. 

But hearing it come from Snape was different. Even if it was resigned and due to it being impossible to keep up with the work.

You grinned and spoke over your shoulder as you left his office.

“I’ll be around tomorrow then. Goodnight Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should add an 'enemies to lovers' tag or something lol
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♡


	4. Chapter 4

**_September 1990_ **

The cold stone felt soothing against your warm forehead. Your wheezing fit hadn't lasted very long, but you were still thankful to have found the small recessed alcove in a small side corridor of the dungeon hallways.

You cursed lightly as you took another deep breath. Since you had been avoiding Snape and the dungeons, you hadn’t noticed when you ran out of Quicker Fix’er Elixir- the respiratory remedy you had created after suffering in the humid moldy air of the dungeons for years as a student. 

“Ugh, but of course they had to have classes in dungeons. And the dungeons couldn't just be in the basement levels, no,” you gasped before sneezing into your open handkerchief ,”Ugh...it had to be.. dungeons under the damn lake.”

You cleared your throat and headed to the closest washroom to clean yourself up before walking to the potions classroom. It should already be empty for the day; you wanted to grab a few things to make a quick batch of your elixir before you meet with Snape. He wasn’t very keen on your sneezing fits as a student, you figured his sentiments hadn’t changed. 

Unfortunately, you were so preoccupied with your thoughts, you didn't realize the classroom door was unlocked and still in use until you walked in and forty pairs of eyes were on you. 

“Professor [Last Name]. You're early.” came Snape’s cold voice from the front of the room.

The glare he directs your way is enough to make the class turn back to the cauldrons in front of them.

You swallow dryly, the familiarity of his glare causing your heart to race. 

But no, you aren’t going to let this happen. You aren’t a terrified first year. Thinking fast, you slap on a big smile and stride up to the front of the class to stand with him.

“If anything I’m late! It's a big group here- I’ll be helping supervise while we make,” you took a quick glance at the closest table's ingredients, “our Wit-Sharpening Potion.”

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but a messy haired Ravenclaw beat him to the punch. “Aren’t you normally in the greenhouses though, Professor [Last Name]?”

You recognized the voice- that very same Ravenclaw had been given detention the first day of Herbology for sneaking off to feed canned beans to one of carnivorous plants.

The little shit. 

“I like to help out Professors Sprout and Juniper when I can. You’ll all be seeing more of me in the dungeons from now on.” 

You were careful to avoid the hard look Snape was giving you as you set your bag on a chair by his desk. 

“Instructions for the Wit-Sharpening Potion start on page sixteen of your text; you'll do well to read it carefully and be precise. The benefits of a well crafted potion will be two-fold; a decent grade and one less class full of ninnies to teach.” Snape instructed curtly while walking towards you. 

“Don’t you know your own department's schedule?” He hissed as the students began to collect ingredients from the shelves.

You kept your eyes towards the class and responded in a low voice.

“Yes I do, not that you were exactly forthcoming with that information. I guess i just… thought it was Wednesday.” you answered sheepishly. “Besides, with a class this size- what, almost forty students? It’d be difficult for anyone to handle. I’ll help you keep an eye on everyone. Make sure nothing gets blown up.” You didn't give him a chance to object and started towards the student tables. 

You watched closely and answered questions as you walked along. Students you recognized from Herbology and the green houses greeted you warmly and looked thankful that you were there. It was nice to feel welcomed. 

Everyone seemed to be on the right track, measuring correctly, stirring the bubbling cauldrons at the right speed. You turned to head back to the front of the class when you noticed a boy shake a measure of powder into their mix. The powder dissolved into the brew and the bubbling cauldron belched a puff of sour smelling brown smoke. 

A look of panic set on his face and he looked around the room frantically, hoping Snape hadn't noticed. 

It was unsettling how fast the same feeling came back to you- how very familiar you were with the panic and dread after making a mistake in potions class.

You quickly moved to the boys desk and looked down at the neat and tidy workstation. Definitely not a careless mistake, he obviously was meticulous about his work.

“Armadillo bile!” The boy's eyes were pleading, “It was only armadillo bile like the book says.” 

“But not powdered bile. Why did you grab that?” 

The students nearby who had started looking over all had regular oozing armadillo bile in their measuring dishes. 

“Well the carafe on the shelf was out. I figured it's the same thing so I could substitute.” The boy seemed embarrassed by all the attention and kept his head low.

“Hmm, yes that makes sense. A clever idea, but not quite enough. It’s not just about using the same ingredients, but about making sure it will create our intended finished product.” You measure out water into a clean dish and double the amount of the powdered bile into another, “The oozing armadillo bile works as a liquid binder- adding a powder would ruin the potions consistency.”

His eyes brightened and he grabbed a bowl and stirring rod. “Rehydrate the bile to make it the right consistency!” 

“Yes exactly.” You grinned as he set to work, “It won't be perfect, but it’ll absolutely get the job done.” 

You peered into his cauldron and noted the lovely bright green of his mix had turned into a dark sludge. “It's a shame such a good start had to go to waste.”

“It’s an inexcusable waste of materials.” Snape’s voice chided beside you. 

You almost jumped- you forgot how good he was at moving soundlessly. 

Snape looked down at the reconstituted bile with a scowl. “What is this mess Barnaby?” He snatched the bowl away and gave it a hard stir. 

“Reconstituted bile, Professor.” the Hufflepuff offered weakly. “We ran out of regular.”

“I see.” Snape dropped the bowl back on the table. “Is this something you picked up from the text? Maybe you figured you could just throw anything together and hope it worked? Or do you just like wasting my materials and my time with your lazy, sloppy shortcuts?” He spoke at the Hufflepuff but his glare was directed at you. 

Barnaby looked from Snape to you helplessly, not sure what to say. 

You forced out the breath caught in your throat. You didn't understand- what exactly was he doing? Testing you? Daring you stand up to him? He was speaking at you like you were some sniveling kid in his classroom again.

“No matter, Barnaby. You’ve failed. Start cleaning up.”

“But that's not fair Professor!”

“You can’t do that Professor; it was my suggestion.” you forced yourself to answer brightly. You wouldn't let Snape just fail the kid. Especially since the whole thing had been your idea. “I think it's important to emphasize why our materials are prepared the way they are- how the integrity of the ingredient affects the end potion.” 

“Stop.” His glare darkened and his voice was low. “It was Dumbledore who put you here, even after I insisted I did not want some useless underling making a mess of my classroom. It wasn’t enough for you to barge into my office and make demands. Or to arrogantly strut in here and play-pretend professor.”

You could feel your face burn in humiliation as he spoke; and that old familiar desperation to escape pulled at you, but you couldn't look away from his consuming tunnel-like eyes. 

“I had hoped, at least, you would be able to keep the class stocked, but even that was just too difficult for someone who claims to have been skilled enough for _my_ N.E.W.T. level classes.” 

His voice stayed level and cold, but laid out everything he thought of you. Snape did not want you here and in fact resented the fact that Dumbledore thought he would need help. It was clear he didn’t trust you at all- he was completely suspicious that there would suddenly be an ex-student who he didn't remember, conveniently hired and placed in his department.

Suddenly it was very hard to breathe and the world started to swim. You took a deep breathe and steeled yourself to speak. “I was only trying to help. Barnaby was being resourceful, all he needed was a bit of extra guidance.”

A cold shill settled on your skin. You hoped desperately that your voice hadn’t faltered. It didn’t help that the sounds of the class had turned to loud static in your ears. “I’ve done plenty for this class and this department, but if I’m not welcomed, then I’ll leave.” 

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom. In the empty hallway you realized your heart was pounding and the anxious dread crashed over you like a wave. 

Okay, alright, the dungeon hallway was not the best place to have a panic attack. Time to get out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♡


	5. Chapter 5

**_September 1990_ **

Madam Pomfrey was just as utterly wonderful as you remembered and you gave her another warm hug. 

When you had stumbled into the infirmary, she had gone straight to work; soothing and grounding you, breathing with you deeply and administering a strong Calming Draught. 

Now the matron gave you a gentle smile and sent you off with a little bundle- a dose of Calming Draught, Sleeping Draught, and a bar of rich chocolate- and strict instructions to take the weekend off.

Walking through the dark corridors of the castle felt eerie after what had happened; you wondered how long you’d been in the infirmary.

Your body ached for sleep, but you knew you'd rather go get the bag you had left behind in the potions classroom now while it was actually empty, then try to avoid everyone in the morning.

The sneezing started immediately at the dungeons and you rushed into the classroom. Oh right, you still haven't been able to brew a batch of your Quicker Fix’er Elixir.

There was a soft knock, and the door of the classroom opened as you grabbed your bag from where you left it. The dread was instant- your blood went cold. Oh no, you didn't want to do this, you didn't want to face Snape now. 

“So sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. I was hoping we could speak before you retired for the evening.”

You released the tense breath you held when you realized it was only the Headmaster who had stepped in. “Oh thank goodness it's you. Yes of course we can talk.”

Dumbledore gave you a sympathetic smile and gestured for you to sit down at the students table.

“I hope you're feeling better? The school is abuzz about the whole thing. You’ve become quite popular with many students.” His eyes twinkled with humor, but you weren't sure what he meant.

“A young bright professor standing up to the dreaded potions master. It becomes a more heroic tale with each retelling.”

Ah now you understood, and you couldn’t help grinning. You were worried you’d lose your credibility with the students and the staff. Looks like it had had the opposite effect. “Well that definitely makes me feel better. I’m glad to hear I’m not the laughing stock of the school.”

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded, “Working with Severus will be a challenge- you have your work cut out for you.” His eyes fixed on yours and he continued slowly. “Beyond that, I wanted to see how _you_ have been doing. I’ve heard you’ve been adjusting well to your new responsibilities, but I wanted to ask you for myself.”

You shifted uncomfortably and lowered your gaze, unsure of how to answer. He knew everything about your situation, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk about. Still, it was nice to have someone like Dumbledore take an interest in your welfare. 

“I know things have been difficult. After the passing of your grandmother, and with your elder brothers… delicate situation,” he pressed gently. 

“I’m better. Really I am.” The words came out strained, “It’s still hard sometimes, but being here has helped. I’m feeling useful; starting to feel like myself more and more.” You looked up at him, eyes shining from the growing tears. “I can't thank you enough for doing this for me. For letting me come back.”

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I know how difficult it is to lose those closest to us. It becomes far too easy to fall into a pit of despair.”

You nodded and stared down at your lap, biting back a sob, as a few tears fell down your face. It was true; after your grandmother had died two years ago, everything had become too much to handle. You had run from it all and hid away. If it hadn’t been for Dumbledore, for his compassion, you'd still be there in that dark place. He offered you an escape, by letting you come back- back to Hogwarts- the only other place that had ever felt like home. 

You had been surprised by the invitation; after what happened with your brother in the summer before your fourth year, your grades had suffered, and you had struggled to keep on top of your studies. But he knew about that too and said the grades didn’t matter- he saw your potential.

Dumbledore waited patiently while you worked to collect yourself. “It’ll be alright. I know you’ll be able to make it through this year. It’ll be arduous work, but you’ve dealt with that grumpy old dungeon bat before.” He gave you a mischievous wink that made you burst into giggles. 

“But if it does become too much, let me know. I’ll help you however I can."

You nodded and brushed away the remaining tears, missing the quick and sudden glance he gave toward the classroom door that was now open just a crack. 

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I know this is sudden, but I wonder if you would be able to make me a batch of that wonderful elixir of yours? If it isn’t too much trouble? I’ve got a painful cough that seems to come and go.” 

There was a glimmer of something strange in his eyes that you didn’t really understand, but you didn't have a problem making him a potion. It was the least you could do after everything. 

“Oh, yes, of course. It’s no trouble at all; I was actually planning on making a batch today.”

“Excellent.” He gave the wand in his hand a flick and the table you sat at came to life- candles lit up, tools began to shift, and the fire under the cauldron ignited. “How can I help?”

“Would you mind getting me powdered asphodel, ground nettle, and dittany extract from the shelf Headmaster?”

“Just Albus is fine my dear.” He found the three glass containers from the cupboard, while you dug out your own ingredients from your bag and laid them out on the table besides the cauldron.

“Lets see, turmeric paste, butterbur root, and althaea syrup.” you muttered.

The tips of your fingers had already begun to tingle in excitement despite your physical and emotional exhaustion; it always happened when you worked magic, but especially when you were brewing. Sparks started building up behind your fingers and eyes and in your chest that sent you into a sort of exhilarated trance, until the only thing that existed was the magic and the elements you would work until they formed something wholly new.

You pushed aside all the painful emotions and memories. _This_ was where you belonged. This was what you were meant for. 

Let the cauldron rise to a gentle boil with a knob of peeled butterbur root. As it comes to, whisk althaea syrup to a foam in a separate vessel, add three drops of dittany extract.

Your hands moved with well practiced fluidity, and you started to hum softly under your breath. Not an incantation, but a rhythm that set the pace for your brew. 

A counter-clockwise stir to add the powdered nettle, until the mix turned beige. Clockwise for the powdered asphodel root to make the mix a deep azure.

By now it had come to a rolling boil- the next step crucial. Stirring in figure eights at just the right speed to add the turmeric paste. 

You held your breath. The mixture turned a cool green, and you quickly shut off the fire. More figures eights until the mix cooled, before gently folding in the froth. 

You beamed when the potion settled into a sea-foam hue, with a gentle puff of white smoke.

“Just perfect…” you muttered and inhaled deeply, “ _Liquelevi_.” A quick wave of the wand and the liquid in the cauldron floated lazily up and out, pouring itself into the bottle you had ready.

Dumbledore watched you thoughtfully as you finished up, his eyes still gleaming bright.

“Incredible how such simple ingredients take such powerful form in the hands of a master.” he praised and took the bottle you handed to him. That made you blush. Why couldn't he have been the one to teach you potions?

He cast a charm that quickly set the room to normal and cleaned off the table, before thanking you again and wishing you good luck and a good night's sleep. 

You bid him goodnight and headed to your quarters. It was for the best to just try and put this whole day behind you. You’d keep a low profile for a few days- or maybe weeks- until Snape had cooled off. Then… Well you weren’t sure just yet. All you knew that you were going to avoid him and potions for as long as you could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a bit difficult to write... But we have some backstory and a look into our Readers potion prowess! 
> 
> I'd love to know what you think- my eyes went a little cross-eyed from rereading this chapter so much trying to make it sound right haha. 
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me and thank you so much for reading! ♡


	6. Chapter 6

**_September 1990_ **

“Turn that light off will you? Some of us are trying to sleep!” 

The residents of the portraits along the walls groaned and shifted as you passed with your lantern. You whispered soft apologies and kept up the pace, turning into a less inhabited corridor.

Roaming the halls of Hogwarts definitely felt different now then when you were a student. Back then, there was always a strange exhilaration, straining your ears to listen for quiet footsteps or the low purr of Mrs. Norris. Now you listened carefully for wandering students or lost castle residents as part of your sentry duty. 

That was an interesting part of orientation; you were not only expected to herd students back to their dormitories, but any number of lost magical beings. You weren't exactly told who or what that could entail but you didn't let the thought linger. 

As you neared the end of the corridor, you heard hushed voices and giggles.

You were near the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room- it was probably just a few kids trying to get a midnight snack from the kitchens.

Sure enough, two third-year Hufflepuffs rounded the corner with a small box filled with cakes and treats.

They froze in the hall when they saw you. “Professor [Last Name]!”

“What are you two doing out and about this late after hours?” 

“Oh well we can explain! You see, we were studying in the library, and sort of lost track of time.” The one holding the box started. “And by then we had already missed dinner. We were going to get up for an early breakfast but we were really hungry and just wanted a little snack.”

You looked them over carefully and considered. You recognized them from the greenhouses and Herbology. The two were close friends and, while a little floaty and gossipy, they weren't bad kids. Always on time and took notes. Besides, they seemed to be telling the truth, and at the very least weren’t causing trouble.

“Well you ladies really shouldn't be out this late but, you definitely shouldn't go to bed hungry. Why don’t you just head back to your dorms and next time something like this happens, talk to your Head of House or your prefect.”

They sighed in relief. “Thank you so much Professor [Last Name]. We really are sorry and it won't happen again.”

“Yes, I’m sure you're quite sorry.” Snape's voice was low and dripped with sarcasm as he walked out of the shadows of the far wall. “Yes, I’m sure you're sorry to have been caught out past curfew. Just as you're now sorry that I’ve found you before [Last Name] let you two leave without consequence.”

The flickering light of the lantern in your hand made him seem like a dark glaring specter as he looked from the two Hufflepuffs and then to you. 

You had been avoiding him since the potions incident a few days ago, careful to always be working on something, always just leaving as he was entering a room. You knew he had wanted to say something. He kept giving you hard glares and mean scowls when you dipped away. 

But now he found you in the halls on your Sunday sentry duty and it would be impossible to get away.

“Ten points from Hufflepuff,” he snapped at the two, “Now get back to your rooms quickly before I tack on a week's detention.” 

“Oh, why don't I escort you two then. Make sure you get there safely.” You said quickly and moved toward the pair. 

Snape held out his hand and looked at you, his expression clear: You won't be getting away that easily.

“The entrance to Hufflepuff is just round the corner, I’m sure these two wont risk another ten points _each_ by getting distracted.” 

The two got the hint, said a quick goodnight and scurried away. You watched them with envy. Why couldn't you just run to the safety of your room? You’d much rather hide under your blankets then deal with whatever quarrel Snape wanted to have.

“Nowhere to hide [Last Name].” he starts silkily.

You pulled your robes tight and crossed your arms, “I don’t hide Professor.” you replied, trying to sound unaffected. 

He snorted at that.

“I can’t imagine why you _would_ be trying to hide. All of the students have been singing your praises since you ‘bested’ me the other day.” He dropped any veneer of politeness and looked at you with dangerously glinting eyes.

Your throat felt dry and you took a step back. It really didn’t feel like you bested him at all. 

You recalled the group of students that had found you afterwards and gushed about how amazing you had been. To them, you had stood up to the terrifying potions master, and when he had begun to unleash his fury you told him off with a smile and left, leaving him, in their words ‘silently blathering like a baboon’.

It was nice to hear that you weren't a joke to the students, but you were nowhere as confident as you had seemed to them- it had been like fighting against a drowning current.

“What you did was wholly unacceptable. Barging into my class, contradicting me in front of my students. Trying to show off with that gimmick.” His tone was icy and sharp.

You shrunk back as he stepped toward you, his dark figure looming over you as if to swallow you up. “I wasn’t trying to show off. I was trying to help.”

“And you thought you would help by showing how to best cut corners? To cheat out the fundamentals? It's not enough to clumsily figure out a substitution, if there isn’t an understanding of the basics rules in potion making. That understanding has to come before anything else.”

You gave him a measured look. “Then you admit it would have worked?”

“That lazy shortcut would have made a sloppy useless potion.” He snapped.

It was hard to admit, but you knew he was right. You knew that trick would work- you had used it when you had brewed a Wit-Sharpening Potion in the early morning before potions class one year, forgetting that a bottle had been assigned the week prior. But it hadn’t really gotten you a stellar grade per say. And it wasn’t fair to do that to Baranby, or any other student, when they were learning how to create the potion for the first time. 

“You’re right.” You said softly and sighed. 

A flicker of surprise flashed across his face and he took a step back.

“That doesn't excuse the way you spoke to me in front of the class. That was also unacceptable. But I can see your point. Understanding the fundamentals are what's most important. Even if my way would have worked, it’d be cheating Barnaby and the others out of learning. It’s not fair to them and it... It reflects poorly on me- and on you.”

You forced yourself to keep eye contact with him as you spoke, hoping he would read the sincerity on your face. He wasn’t an easy person to apologize to, but you didn’t want this hanging over you anymore.

Snape’s eyes studied you carefully, and you could swear the intensity of his gaze caused an itchy tickle at the base of your skull. 

After a long pause, he straightened out and cleared his throat.“Very well then. I expect you to keep your commitment to the job you were so adamant on doing. Tomorrow night in my office, as we agreed.”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded.

“And at the correct time, [Last Name].” He spoke over his black clad shoulder as he walked into the dark hallway.

And that was that. 

You let go of the sigh of relief once his footsteps were out of earshot. Thank goodness, no more avoiding or walking on eggshells, waiting for the inevitable. Hopefully it would be the last altercation you had to have with Severus Snape.


	7. Chapter 7

**_September 1990_ **

After almost a week of grading with Snape, you realized the three things that bothered you the most about the entire situation.

First off, you disliked how he _still_ totally underestimated you.

That very first night, you were a bit anxious and unsure what to expect, due to your rocky start. Luckily, Snape was all business; he had arranged an old dark brown arm chair opposite his desk, and had three large piles of pop quizzes ready to grade when you arrived. 

You figured he would set you up with a challenge on your first day, but you would not be intimidated. Plowing through the papers, you finished them up in the couple of hours before the student curfew. The repetitive work was surprisingly draining, but worth the look Snape's face when you announced you had finished.

That satisfying feeling? Stopped feeling so great after day two. Because after that he seemed to continuously try and up the ante, always adding piles of work, making you reread through essays, or asking you to review something he had ‘forgotten’ about. And to top it off, he always had some snarky little quip when you got done. 

Second, the total and complete silence. How did he work like this? Did he have a silencing charm on every inch of every wall? On every square of the stone floor? It was maddening to not have some sort of white noise- and at this point you would take literally anything that wasn’t parchment shuffling and quill scratching. 

You let yourself sink into your seat and hummed- at least the old armchair was nice and comfortable. 

“Having trouble [Last Name]?” Snape cut into your thoughts with a bored drawl from the other side of the desk. 

“No not at all. It's just this essay from one of the first years. It's bad. Like, really really bad.”

You looked back down at the essay on wormwood that was starting to test your fortitude. You were trying to be fair, but almost every inch of this essay was pure regurgitated bullshit. You picked your quill back up and crossed out an entire paragraph in red that had been copied almost word for word from the textbook. Wormwood was the simplest of simple, and if this kid couldn't get it down he would have no chance of passing potions this year.

You sighed and pushed the paper towards Snape. He glanced up and seemed to recognize the writing instantly.

“Oh yes, a little Gryffindor brat with a stinking attitude.” he said with disdain. “More interested in chasing after the Quidditch players and causing trouble than anything else.”

You frowned at his comment. The kid definitely shouldn't have plagiarized the work, especially not from the textbook. Maybe he figured it was just better to b.s. his way through then even try. With a professor like Snape, he probably didn’t want a thing to do with potions, underachieving Quidditch chaser or not. The same thing had almost happened to you after all.

“Some students don’t want to be taught. Nothing I can do if they refuse.” Snape answered, seemingly reading your mind. He put down the parchment he was working on and snatched one from your pile.

There it was. The third and most annoying thing about working with him.

After a week, Snape still felt he had to check your work for mistakes. Every so often he would take a random parchment and make a show of scrutinizing it. Sometimes he hummed and tapped at the desk, or gave a disapproving grunt. You figured it was his attempt at making you sweat. Not a chance of that though, not with the easiest of the course work to grade, you thought and rolled your eyes at his theatrics. You didn’t try and pretend like it didn't bother you, but it really wasn't a fight you wanted to have. You’d let the snarky bastard do double the work and feel smug when he couldn't find something to complain about. 

“It’s getting kind of late. If you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in for the night.” You started gathering up your things. 

“Before you go, I have something of yours.” Snape pulled out a familiar glass bottle from one of his drawers. “Dumbledore asked me to return this, with his thanks.” 

Instead of holding it out to you, he set the empty bottle on the desk in front of him and gave it a tap. “ ‘The Quicker Fix’er Elixir’. A strange name.” He unscrewed the lid carefully and took a whiff. “Nettle, turmeric, dittany. A healing potion, with an incredibly bitter taste.”

You shifted in front of him, unsure of what to say. Why did Dumbledore have to give it to Snape of all people? Anyone else but him. Or just keep the bottle altogether- not like you didn't have plenty more!

“Simple ingredients but expertly brewed.” Snape replaced the stopper and looked back at you. “Where did you get this?”

There was a strange sort of gleam in his eyes, you had a sudden itch at the back of your head, and you found it difficult to look away. 

“I made it. It’s an elixir that helps me with my ‘dungeon aversion’. It's an all-purpose respiratory remedy. Hay fever, allergies, cough- things like that.”

The tickle vanished when he raised a dubious brow and scoffed. 

Now that was just plain rude. You didn’t want to stir up any more trouble, or have Snape resent you anymore then he did, but dammit that was your formula! All the miserable hours you spent in the dungeons as a student, taking cough drops by the handful. And when the drops stopped working in your third year, you had borrowed an upperclassmen’s copy of advanced potions and taught yourself the standard Cough Potion. But even that only worked for so long before the fits came back with a vengeance, and made you realize you would have to come up with something from scratch or you were gonna end up needing a magical lung transplant. 

This was your creation, lovingly crafted, and you weren't about to let him dismiss all the work you put in.

“You don’t have to believe me, Snape, but that's my elixir.” You straightened up and crossed your arms, “This is my baby- I slaved over this formula for almost two years to get it perfect.”

Snape looked at you carefully, his brow still arched high. “Prove it.” he said simply and rose out of his chair. He wasn’t going to wait for your response, and went to the cupboard on the far wall.

“Wait are you serious? You want me to do this now?” 

“Why not?” He responded over his shoulder, and motioned to the small workstation in the corner of the room. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you, if this really is your _baby_.”

You felt the panic start to creep in, that same familiar panic of your school years- the panic of the other day- and you breathed in deeply. It’s okay, It’s okay. You’d make a quick batch to shut him up and that’d be the end of it. 

Walking over to the table, you started to set up what you’d need.

This was okay. Another deep breath and a few dishes, a whisk, and a stirring rod with a flat paddle.

Then you felt it, the electricity starting to swell in your chest. In fact, this was more than okay. This would be great.

A swish of the wand and the cauldron at the table started to warm up.

As the sparks flowed from your core and down to your fingertips, the panic started to dissolve and you beamed. Oh yes this was more than okay. You’d prove it alright- you’d make the most perfect batch of elixir you'd ever made, and that would put the snarky bastard right in his place. 

Snape came to your table and set down a number of things in front of you. “This should be all you need _Professor_.” 

His tone was patronizing, but you didn’t really notice now. Your attention was on the jars and bottles before you. “No shrivelfig or porcupine quills. Turmeric paste, not ground. Althaea syrup, clarified if you have it, and butterbur root please.” Your tone was almost trance like and he gave you a curious look, as you started to portion out your ingredients carefully.

The practiced motions came easier than the soft rhythmic humming. Oh yes, you would make sure this was something special. 

Snape placed the last few ingredients before you and took a step back. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, noting how you had seemed to tune him, and everything else, out. Your eyes were dilated and wide as you worked, your hands reaching out instinctively toward everything you needed. 

You folded the last of the froth into the brew and it gave a pop with a burst of white smoke. An especially potent batch, you thought with a giggle. 

“Interesting.” Snape's cool voice beside you abruptly snapped you out of your trance.

You had completely forgotten he was even there and the thought that he had been watching you the whole time made you shiver. Still, you stepped to the side as he leaned closer to look into the cauldron.

His face was expressionless but his eyes were calculating as he carefully inspected the elixir. The lovely afterglow of the magic drained out of you as you watched him. Dear Merlin, it was just like being back in class. Waiting for him to pass his judgement. 

“I’m not being graded for this am I?” you asked with a nervous chuckle. 

Snape ignored you and took a small taste with a sample stick. His eyes widened and he turned to you as if seeing you for the first time. “Now I see. I know exactly who you are.”

Well that's not what you expected. “Excuse me Professor?”

His eyes gleamed with new recognition. “Oh yes [Last Name] now I remember. You’re that whining, crying, _wheezing_ little girl who barely made it into my Seventh Year of Potions.” He snickered, “I wondered why this mix seemed so incredibly familiar. If I recall correctly, I caught you after hours in my classroom, sneaking out with a bowl of dittany.”

Your face turned hot and you looked away in embarrassment. This was definitely bad, right? Of course it was strange that he didn't remember teaching you. It made him distrust you from the get go. But maybe that had been for the best? Not a clean slate, per say, but you weren't keen on the new inflection his voice had now taken. 

“My bottle broke in my bag. I only needed a bit.” You said hesitantly, feeling a sneeze building, you took a deep breath to force it down. 

He winced in distaste, “But I should have realized sooner, what with your stunt with the reconstituted bile.”

“I already apologized for that!”

“Oh yes,” He continued as if you hadn’t spoken, “you were always the first to finish your work so that you could fool around with these harebrained concoctions of your own design. Arrogantly handing in barely passable potions, always doing the bare minimum. 

“Yet, despite that, you’ve managed to create a very potent elixir.” He tapped the edge of the cauldron, “If you had made anything even half as good as this in class, I might have actually bothered to remember you.”

You tensed at the smirk he threw your way. How could he just.. Just stand there and be so smug? After the way he treated you, treated everyone! Anger bubbled up inside and you wanted to shout- _maybe if you hadn't been such a monster this would have been perfected sooner!_

“I would never have worked like this in your class, and it had nothing to do with my attitude or any arrogance you think I had, _Professor_.” you said venomously.

“I’m truly devastated.” Snape didn't miss a beat, and replied with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t baby anyone, or treat anyone with kid gloves; your failures as a student in my class are your own. How you managed to make it to my N.E.W.T. classes at all...”

“Well it definitely wasn’t thanks to you,” you snapped, feeling heat rise on your cheeks. You wanted to yell at him- that he had no idea what you had been through. Why things were so hard for you. Why being here now meant so much. 

You shook your head, pushing back the sudden rush of grief, and walked to the desk to grab your things. You doubted he would understand, or even care really, so it was pointless to try and explain. 

“Why don’t you come to my class tomorrow night?” 

“What?” You spun back to face him with wide eyed suprise. An invitation to his classroom? After what had just happened? Now that was unexpected. 

“My seventh years meet for class every Friday afternoon. They’ll be brewing several different healing potions tomorrow.” Snape’s dark eyes caught yours as he spoke. “You’ve clearly had success with that elixir of yours; come and you’ll have a chance to show off your abilities. Even relive some of the old glory.” The humor in his voice sounded hollow and didn't match the cold calculating glint in his eyes.

The invitation could not have been more ominous- attending was probably not a good idea. But what could he possibly have planned in the last three minutes? Was he just inviting you to embarrass you in front of the students again? To try and save face from last time? 

You had really hoped that was over and done with, but sure, maybe inviting you was some sick revenge plot. But then why not invite you back to the same class? Or even another one with more students? Last time you checked the roster, there weren't even twenty students enrolled in seventh year potions. 

“I’ll expect you there at five pm sharp, [Last Name].” he said, again not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Yeah alright. I don’t see why not.” you responded reluctantly and slung your bag over your shoulder. “Tomorrow then.”

He nodded dismissively, already turned back to the cauldron with your cooling potion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be patient with me. I've already started working on the next two chapters, but they are proving to be difficult. Conflict's with Snape are hard to resolve- it's hard having to be the bigger person. 
> 
> Otherwise, thank you for so much for reading ♡


	8. Chapter 8

**_September 1990_ **

The clicking of your small heels echoed against the stone corridor. Of course you would be late, today of all days. Even after you made sure to leave the greenhouses early to give you enough time to get cleaned up and dressed in your slightly nicer, more professional outfit, complete with a gently billowing robe. 

But of course something had to happen. This time around, Peeves had been taunting a gaggle of Gryffindors. They decided to try and fight back, casting clumsy charms at the specter. It took almost an hour to break up the fight, and made you more than half an hour late.

Well whatever, it's not like you were late because you forgot or something. You had to break up that fight. You repeated this in your head with a nod.

Maybe a small part of you knew that you could have let someone else take care of it. Another small part of you had hoped all day that something would happen that made you unable to attend. And another very large part of you was not looking forward to reliving Snape’s Seventh year in any way. As a student, you had been both dismayed and relieved to find you had managed to get in by just the skin of your teeth, one in a group of twenty-five.

You shook your head and tried to push away the dread. No time for it. This was going to be different. Maybe not better, but hopefully not as miserable.

You forced a light professional smile on your face and pushed the door to the classroom open.

The classroom for seventh years was a different and separate room then the normal classroom; one you had only gone into a few times during the summer, only needing to restock a few of the basics. 

It was small and windowless. The shelves against the wall had the normal set of ingredients, but also had jars of rare specialty items. Animals, whole and in pieces, floating in murky solutions, preserved molds and fungi, and carafes of pewter, silver, and gold. Each table had a normal cauldron and drawers with test tubes, beakers and vials. Four other low set tables had been equipped with industrial sized cauldrons. A large sink was tucked into the corner besides the door to a supply closet.

“Sorry I’m late,” you started, but unlike the last class you had walked in on, no one looked up.

The class of only thirteen students were divided up into four groups, hovering over the large cauldrons already bubbling and smoking. A few of the students worked at the tables prepping ingredients- grinding and measuring on the scales, while another was cleaning up behind them. And one student stayed at the cauldron, mixing the brew with a large wooden paddle. 

Snape walked among them watching closely- stopping to inspect the ingredients or to check the stirring of another. 

You walked towards the closest cauldron and were hit instantly with the strong distinct scent of a Wiggenweld Potion. A Hufflepuff with thick fogged frames was mixing the bright orange brew carefully, as a thin Ravenclaw tilted a large pewter carafe over, slowly pouring in salamander's blood. 

“Just a bit more Ralphie, it's starting to turn.” The Hufflepuff seemed to be able to see through the clouded lenses and the smoking cauldron and straight into the mix. “And…. Stop! That's plenty!”

And sure enough, the vapor swirled and with a gentle puff lightened out as the mix in the cauldron turned a beautiful bright yellow. 

“You’re late.” Snape’s harsh tone besides you almost made you jump. His glare was impatient and testy.

“Sorry, yes I am, but-” You started but Snape had turned his attention on the grinning Hufflepuff. 

“Birchwood. I’ve warned you before about going by feel and not measuring your ingredients properly by scale. Feel free to ruin your own work, but this particular batch is for our Infirmary. Best not to kill someone due to your ego. Twenty points from Hufflepuff.” he scolded sharply.

The Hufflepuff kept her head down and continued to stir, but you could see the red tinge of embarrassment on her face.

Snape leaned down to inspect the mix carefully for a moment, and when he stood back up, seemed almost put out by not finding anything wrong. “You're exceedingly lucky Miss. Birchwood. Forty points if you try it again.”

She nodded briskly, her lips drawn into a tight frown. 

It was painful to watch, and you almost wanted to hug her. It was obviously not her first time making a Wiggenweld potion. She was clearly a natural, but it would be useless trying to argue that with him.

“I don’t remember doing this as a student.” You followed him as he continued to the next cauldron.

“I only began this practice the year after your class graduated. My seventh year students, as part of their course work, make the healing potions, antidotes, and salves that supply the school Infirmary. Making large batches of potions while maintaining a perfect formula, preserving and transporting in large quantities; it’s an important skill to learn and why I emphasize accuracy and quality control.” He explained as he scrutinized the prepared and measured ingredients on the second groups table.

You glanced back at the Wiggenweld table and hated to think he was right. Even though she seemed like a natural she was still a student and she had to make sure she was making the potion correctly, especially since it was going to be used on campus, not just neutralized after being graded. 

You knew a good few who took this class would end up working at St. Mungo’s or in large scale potion production. Getting them into the practice of brewing in bulk, of storing and maintaining in that quantity was actually...

“Well, that's actually brilliant, Professor.” You said genuinely. “It only makes sense that they learn these skills now before they jump into their professions.”

Snape looked a bit startled by the sincerity of your sudden compliment, and stared at you pointedly before clearing his throat, “Of course it is.”

“As you can see, today the class has been divided into groups: Wiggenweld Potion, Calming Draught, and a burn-healing paste.” He continued and gestured to each group. “Every member will take turns preparing the potion, adding in each ingredient, brewing the mix, bottling, and cleaning. All something I wouldn’t have to explain if you had done us the courtesy of appearing on time.” 

You winced at the contempt in his tone, but didn’t bother to explain yourself. It wouldn't do any good, especially since you hadn't really tried very hard to get out of dealing with the Peeves situation. 

Instead, you glanced over at a lone student just off to the side of the rest of the class. “What about her? She’s working on her own?”

“Precisely why I asked you to be here today.”

Snape walked you over to the table set a bit away from the others where a single Slytherin was hunched over a medium cauldron.

“This is Guinevere Bonume. She’s the top student in this class and an exceptionally skilled potioneer.” The Slytherin girl didn't look up from her work, carefully adding crushed valerian root into the cauldron a little at a time, stirring steadily.

“Oh I see.” It was a bit strange to hear him boast about a student, but it sort of made sense- she was a Slytherin after all. You glanced at the ingredients on the table next to her. Wormwood, asphodel, sloth brain. You felt a flicker of guilt pass through you, recognizing exactly what she was making. 

“A Draught of Living Death?”

“Correct.”

“Alright, so what does this have to do with me?” You turned to him in confusion. “Did you want me to help her? Or demonstrate this for the class? Help you supervise?” It was weird that he had invited you in the first place, but you figured it was his way of placating you. By putting you in a class where everyone could work almost totally independently and you wouldn't do any damage.

A small gloating smirk formed on his face. “Oh no Professor [Last Name]. I asked you here to do the same as Miss. Bonume. Create a Draught of Living Death.”

“Wait, what? I don’t understand. It looks like Miss. Bonume has it under control here. Why do you need me too- ” 

“As I mentioned, this is a practice I started after you had already graduated.” Snape cut you off and led you to the next table over that had been set up exactly as Bonume’s. “This draught is just a bit too testy to be made in the large cauldrons. And since you did oh so well on your own elixir, I figured this wouldn’t be a challenge for you.”

There was a glint in his eye you could see past the sarcastic spiel. What exactly was he aiming to try and prove?

“It’d be an especially great help to Madam Pomfrey,” he said carefully, watching your face. “She’s been in need of this particular potion. And there isn't enough time for Miss. Bonume to make two batches.”

You looked away from him and to the Slytherin, who was still carefully poring over her work, and then down at the table in front of you. Of course you don’t mind helping. Especially if it would mean supplying Madam Pomfrey; the healer held a special place in your heart and not just because of her care during your panic attack. 

She had always been there for you; when you stumbled into her infirmary after your first potions lesson, wheezing and covered in snot, she cleaned you up and sorted you out. Pomfrey had been the one who supplied you the cough drops that kept your allergic reactions at bay for three years, until they had stopped working. And when you were teaching yourself to make standard Coughing Potion, she had walked you through some of the trickier steps. Still, you doubted his intentions- couldn’t he have just done this himself?. But if it meant helping Madam Pomfrey…

Besides, you couldn’t deny the excitement that had started sparking at your fingertips the second you had walked into the room and were surrounded by the smells and sounds of the bubbling brews. The challenge of creating in such quantities intrigued you. And it had been a while since you had made this particular draught. 

“Yeah, alright. I don’t mind helping out, if the Infirmary really needs this.”

“Good to hear it.” he answered slyly.

The magical sparks blooming in your chest felt wonderful; managing to drown out your own guilty memories and Snape's suspicious tone, as you considered the ingredients in front of you. It was an interesting challenge, every change would impact the end potion.

Wormwood and asphodel were easy enough to measure out. You took a dagger and crushed the wriggling Sopophorous beans, collecting the juice in a bowl and setting it on the scale.

Hmm. It equaled the counterweight fine, but it didn’t _feel_ right. You narrowed your eyes in thought; you always found it best to trust that Magic Nudge when it came to things like this, and crushed a few more beans. You didn't notice Snape raise a curious brow as he walked by your table. 

As you worked, you could feel the energy in you change. Normally when you worked on your own concoctions or on small potion batches the magic seemed to flow like warm lava, sparking bright but comforting.

Now, it was like a crackling fire under your skin.

The potion was now at a rolling boil and had turned dark like blackcurrant from the mashed sloth brains. Add the powdered asphodel mix slowly until completely dissolved.

The seventh years, who had just finished their potions, left their cooling cauldrons to crowd around your table curiously. Demos really weren't a thing in seventh year- if you still needed someone to show you at this point, you really have no place in this classroom at all. But you were making a Draught of Living Death, one of the harder, more advanced potions to make. Snape had demoed it in the sixth year and had considered that enough. And they figured you must know what you were doing- you _were_ technically a potions professor after all, even if they hadn't really seen you in the dungeons. 

Drop the heat of the cauldron to a gentle simmer and incorporate valerian root with a clockwise stir. Six beats between each added piece. Next, beat the mixture and slowly pour in the Sopophorous bean juice. A puff of lilac smoke and it was time to turn counterclockwise. One… Two… Three… You counted with each turn. Six… And, seven. Turn off the heat and let it rest. 

You finally looked up and noticed the group of students watching you intently. You smiled sheepishly, “I’m so sorry everyone. I wasn't trying to take over your class. I’m sure none of you need to be taught how to make this.” It was kind of embarrassing to stand there being watched and your cheeks turned pink. 

Snape stepped toward your cauldron and leaned down, carefully avoiding the remaining vapors. He gave it a cursory stir, and then looked up at you with an arched brow. 

What was that look on his face? Was he surprised? _Impressed_? 

The other students started to crowd closer, taking a look for themselves.

“Jeez, it's completely clear.” The skinny Ravenclaw from before motioned for her Hufflepuff friend. “You can actually see the bottom of the cauldron- it's almost like there is nothing in there!”

The students all took turns examining the potion and asking you questions. You felt a bit overwhelmed with their attention at first, but you were beaming at their interest. This was exactly what you had hoped to do! This was something you wished you could have done in that fourth year class you had walked in on. 

“Alright that's enough of that. You’ll all know plenty about how to brew a Draught of Living Death- I’ll expect fifteen inches on the subject from each of you on my desk next Friday.” Snape rolled his eyes at the chorus of groans, “Get back to your stations and start on bottling.”

You watched the class disperse, all but Guinevere, who had quietly lingered with her arms crossed and a glare on her face, as she examined your brew. 

“Thank you for inviting me today.” You turned to Snape with a smile, “I didn’t know what to think when you asked me here, but, wow, that was really great.”

Genuivere stepped forward suddenly and answered before he could. “Professor Snape didn’t invite you here to waste class time with a pointless demonstration,” she said haughtily. “He did it to test you. Apparently, you're some nobody Dumbledore stuck here because he didn’t know where else to put you.”

You recoiled, her words landing like a slap across the face. “Excuse me?”

“Bonume.” Snape said her name in a low warning, but she pressed on.

“I’m the best in this class- that's why Professor Snape asked me to go up against you.” She brushed away loose strands of hair from her face and tilted her head up proudly. “In fact, it was my idea to make a Draught of Living Death.” 

Her stinking attitude sent an indignant anger rolling through you. Who the hell did this kid think she was, speaking to you like that?

You looked at Snape waiting for him to say something. He avoided your eyes.

Okay. Deep breathe and calm.

Was this kid a major brat with some serious self-importance? Of course. Stuck up her own ass? Yeah, absolutely. But she was still a kid, just a teenager. This landed all on Snape. He was the one who had orchestrated all of this- and unlike last time you weren’t going to run away. 

“Guinevere, was it?” you spoke carefully, keeping your tone even, “I can see why you chose such a difficult potion. You are an extraordinarily talented witch.” 

That seemed to deflate her a bit and her arms fell to her sides. 

“Why don't you start bottling the Draughts and I’ll come over and help you out in a bit?”

She looked at Snape, who motioned her to go, and gave you another measured glare before heading back to her table.

Once she was out of ear shot you leaned toward Snape, “What in the hell is she talking about?” you hissed quietly. “Is she serious? Is that why you dragged me here?”

“I hardly had to drag you. Besides, hands-on class work is a part of your duties”

“Yes of course it is, but that's clearly not the point!”

Finally he met your eyes. “Lets save this discussion for after class.” His voice was frustratingly cool and unaffected, and you wanted to smack him.

“Fine.” you acquiesced through gritted teeth. He would have peace for now, but you weren’t leaving without an explanation. You were sick of him constantly making you feel inferior and it was time you confronted him about it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation is had. More of our Readers past is revealed.

**_September 1990_ **

You absentmindedly wiped down the center table as the classroom cleared out.

Most of the students gave you cautiously cheerful goodbyes as they left. They noticed the tension that had grown after the brewing session. You knew it from the sympathetic looks a few had given you and were glad they had kept to themselves and didn't ask. 

Now the room was empty but for the two of you.

This wasn’t going to turn out like the incident with the fourth years- you weren’t going to run away. The words you were going to say to him had turned in your head as you had helped the class bottle potions, fill and stack crates, and clean up. You took a deep breath and faced him.

“This whole little scheme of yours is just completely ridiculous and I don’t know what you were hoping to prove.” You started, feeling the anger rising in your throat, “I knew being in potions and working with you would be difficult, but you’ve been treating me like some little fledgling first year since the term began and I’ve honestly had enough.” 

You paused and took another deep breath, trying to keep control of the emotion in your voice. But the words started falling out fast and pained and you couldn't stop yourself. 

“I have been trying to make this work. I’ve been trying to be helpful, trying to help _you_ , and you turn around and pull this shit? You told that student, that _kid_ , I’m a nobody? That I don’t belong here? And then you pit her against me to, what, try and show me up? Put me in my place- are you out of your mind? If you really have that big of a problem with me being here, you could have just told me; or better yet, go straight to Dumbledore. Tell him that, despite my best efforts, you are just too stubborn or proud or whatever to have someone in your department who is only trying to help!”

Snape’s face remained expressionless as you poured out your frustrations; he let a tense silence hang heavy in the air before he spoke. “You're right,” he started slowly, deliberately, “I did pit you against Bonume.”

Snape’s admission felt like a sucker punch, and your hands reflexively balled into fists.

“You can’t be serious, how could you be such a– “

“Quiet!” he snapped, before the insult left your mouth. 

“I simply told Miss. Bonume that, as a new professor, it would be prudent to see where you stood in ability. What better way than to see how you fared against my most exceptional pupil?” Snape waved his hand dismissively with a scowl. “The rest of that inane blathering were her own presumptions.”

It took you a moment to take that in. He hadn’t just been openly belittling you to the students? That was something at least. You weren’t exactly inclined to believe him, but what else could you say? There wouldn’t really be anyway to prove that he had.

“Honestly, you didn’t have to say a word. Your attitude towards me and the fact that you planned this ridiculous little ‘test’ with her was enough. All she had to do was fill in the blanks.”

You didn’t wait for his response and crossed your arms against yourself defensively. “Why? Why bother to do this at all? Haven’t I proven myself yet? All the work I’ve done, putting this department together before the term- before you even got here. I’m sure you didn’t notice that all those old beaten-up cauldrons had the dents taken out and were scrubbed clean. Or that all those rusty burners were replaced with new ones. And all this week, I’ve plowed through all the work you’ve given me, and I’ve done it without a single mistake or complaint, but apparently even that isn’t enough for you. So please help me to understand why.”

“You want to know why, eh?” Snape said it with clear disdain, and his eyes narrowed. “I thought I recognized you, after finding you and Dumbledore mucking about in my classroom after hours last week.”

“What? You were spying on us?”

“It’s not spying if you're trespassing into my classroom,” his eyes flashed. “I had my suspicions, but they were confirmed when I had you recreate that elixir in my office. I remembered that potion, as I remembered you. A whimpering little fool daydreamer always off in your own little world. Never feeling like you had to work hard; always just so sure of your natural talent. Pure arrogance.” He spat out the word with contempt.

“Slughorn had told me about a promising witch in his third year class, exceedingly bright and talented. Once I took over for your fourth year, all that ability must have vanished– none of your work was ever more than just passable. You were much too busy with your own little inane fantastical projects; too busy to be bothered to put in the hard work, to learn true mastery. Your presence in my class was a waste.”

Resentful, indignant anger burned through you, and you could feel yourself start to shake from it. You had to turn away, pressing your hands to your face to keep the tears from falling. It took everything in you to not lash out and attack him with screams and curses. Who the hell did he think he was, speaking to you like that? Acting as if he knew anything about you at all? Snape didn’t know anything. 

When you turned back to him, his cold, empty eyes were boring into you. You forced yourself to meet his stare and instantly felt the pressure from it; a pain that pulsed through your head. But you stood your ground, unflinching, and returned it– willed all of your pain and anguish into your eyes. 

How could you tell him about that summer before your fourth year? When your brother had lost his sanity to Death Eaters who had mistook him for a different man. That they laughed and continued their torture even after they had realized their mistake. 

“You don't know anything about me. About anything I’ve gone through–”

How could you describe the daze of your fourth year, all the pain and tears? Nothing seemed to matter, until you convinced yourself that the answer could be found in a bubbling cauldron. The hope that you could use your most powerful gift to save him pushed you on. 

“I almost gave up after my fourth year, but I had to try. I had to pass the O.W.L.S- I had to make it to advanced potions– ”

Grades, homework, tests- none of it mattered. You had to learn everything. Every technique and skill that he drilled into your class. It was miserable work, but you had dutifully noted everything. The answer had to be there. Every spare moment was spent trying to find a potion that would clear the darkness in your brother’s mind.

“Maybe I wasn’t the best student, but you made it hell and I came close to dropping out so many times. I stuck it out because I knew that was where I needed to be–”

 _But it doesn't matter because I don’t owe you an explanation!_ The thought roared in your head. You just wanted to move on- to move forward without the pain and sadness.

“Maybe you’ve never made mistakes you’ve regretted, or lost someone who mattered to you. Either way, you can’t keep treating me like this!”

And at last, you saw Snape crack– he flinched, for just a moment, took a step back, and broke the eye contact with a snarl. His hand reached up to rub against his temple. 

Dizziness instantly overcame you when he looked away, and you reached out to steady yourself against a table. Breathing hard, the throbbing in your head only made it worse– it felt like the entire room was spinning. 

It had felt like a battle of wills, staring and waiting for him to say something. You glanced back up at him– he still held a hand to his head, but his expression returned to unreadable. On a better day, you could have been charitable, assume he was finding a way to apologize. 

But there really wasn’t a chance of that happening was there?

“I think… I think it's for the best that I go.” the shakiness of your voice surprised you. “This clearly isn’t going to work out. You don’t want me here, and I’m not going to spend the rest of the year trying to prove myself. I’ll talk to Dumbledore first thing tomorrow morning about switching out of potions.” You grabbed your robe and walked out of the door without looking back. 

This wasn’t how you wanted things to end. Coming back to Hogwarts was supposed to be a fresh start. But being around him was like fighting against the current. And you had already done so much fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been leaving lovely comments, and dropping kudos! It's so motivating to know that people are enjoying my work! Sorry if I haven't replied to your comments– this week was a little hectic for me. I just want you to know I love it and I cherish every one!
> 
> This chapter in particular was very difficult for me to write. I swear I went cross-eyed re-reading it and re-writing it. Even as I was posting it here I was still cleaning it up, haha. I hope no one minds the angsty back story (´∀｀；)
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone! ♡


	10. Chapter 10

_  
**September 1990**  
_

Minerva McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temple, looking quite a bit put out and not very much amused. “I’m sorry [First Name], but I’m afraid it's completely out of the question.”

You weren’t sure whether to start begging or just burst into tears; not that it would have made a difference, it seemed like Minerva wouldn’t be swayed, especially after you had practically gotten her out of bed yourself.

But it’s not liked you had planned to throw yourself onto her mercy this morning. The plan was to go straight to Dumbledore and throw yourself on _his_ mercy. You were prepared to move anywhere or do anything. You’d happily live in the green houses, weed Hagrid's gardens all winter long, work as long as it took to keep Trelawney organized- even be Filch’s personal assistant if it meant getting out of potions. 

When you woke up this morning at five am to head to the headmasters office, you hadn't even bothered to get dressed, opting to throw on a plain robe over your pajamas. You were still smoothing down your bed-head when the giant gargoyle in front of his office smugly informed you that you had just missed Dumbledore; he was out on school business and the earliest he would return was the end of October. That meant that the only other person who could help was McGonagall. As Deputy Headmistress, she would have been able to pull you from the potions department. 

“I sympathize with you [First Name], but you have to understand it’s already a month into the term. And not getting along with Severus just isn’t reason enough to move you out.”

“Minerva, please, it’s not just that we don't get along– he is completely impossible. I’ve done everything I can, trying not to step my bounds, but it's like he's trying to break me! Demanding I make potions in weird tests of ability, reprimanding me like a child in front of the students– it undermines my position as a professor in Potions and at Hogwarts. I’m just at the end of my rope here.” You grimaced at the desperation in your voice, but this was your last shot- you had a feeling she was about to kick you out of her office. 

Minerva sighed again, but her expression was softer, kinder. “I understand. Really I do. But _you_ have to understand I just don’t feel comfortable making a decision like this without the Headmaster. Moving you out means moving a different adjunct in, someone who isn’t as knowledgeable and qualified as yourself. It would be a disservice to the students and we can both agree that their education is the priority.”

She gave you a meaningful look and waited for your reluctant nod of agreement before continuing. “You are welcome to wait until Albus returns and make your plea to him, but as it stands, you cannot be moved and I have to expect you’ll continue with your duties as per usual. For the time being, please try and make things work.”

That was that then. You would have to stick it out- at least until Dumbledore came back. With a grim nod, you thanked her for speaking with you and apologized again for waking her up, before heading to the door. 

Minerva sighed at your miserable expression and stopped you. “No one really gets on with Severus; he isn’t exactly one to try and keep the peace. I wouldn’t mind speaking with him, on your behalf, if you’d like?”

You blanched at the suggestion and shook your head fiercely.

“Alright, it was just a thought.”

“Thank you anyway Minerva.” you gave her a polite nod and slipped out into the corridor, where the rising sun had begun to flood through the long open windows. 

This was going to be difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. You couldn’t avoid him- since that had so wonderfully failed last time- you would do what you always did: keep at your work and keep out of sight.

What that would mean for your grading sessions with him you weren't sure. Having to spend anymore time cooped up in Snape’s musty old office definitely didn’t sound appealing. Not that it ever had, but now it felt different; Minerva might be inclined to check in on you. Grading, teaching, working hands-on with the students were all technically your responsibilities- even if Snape had only just started letting you get more involved.

You’d have to talk to him eventually, but right now you couldn’t even imagine being in the same room as Snape, nevermind alone with the guy having a conversation. It was better to just forget it for now- you had the entire day ahead of you.

But first, a visit to Madame Pomfrey, for the strongest pain potion she had to tamp down the migraine that had followed you from yesterday’s blowout.

* * *

  


“I know it's only a month into the term, but working with Filius and the students has just been incredible! I’ve learned so much; and it’s just so great working with the students hands on- so much different then what I learned in that teaching seminar. I’m definitely going to follow up with the headmaster about applying for a permanent position next year.” Earnest happily bit into his toast as he continued telling you all about how well things were going in Charms. 

You nodded along as he spoke, trying to hide your grimace behind your mug of tea. Of course you were glad to hear Earnest was enjoying himself, and you didn’t want to bring him down with your own woes, but it was hard to listen to him gush. 

“I’m sorry [First Name],” Earnest apologized sheepishly, noting the sour look on your face. “I’m not trying to rub it in, honest. I can’t imagine how it must have felt to have Snape pull the kind of stunt he did.” He took another bite of his lunch and hummed in thought. “It’s a shame Dumbledore isn’t here; why don’t you just take Minerva up on her offer? Have her talk to Snape for you.” 

The suggestion made you groan loudly and slump into your chair. “How totally humiliating would that be? No Earnest, I think I’d rather have Snape chop me up and use my pieces for his potions.” you replied dryly. 

Earnest spluttered into his tea. “That's dark [First Name]. But how grim is it that I can actually picture him doing that?” 

“I’m sure he’d be thrilled.” You rolled your eyes and looked out into the sunlight bathed Great Hall. It was a beautiful cloudless day and the crisp autumn breeze floated in through the long windows of the hall. It made you suddenly nostalgic for your first year as a student- when everything was new and magic and wonderful. When the future seemed just as bright as it was distant. 

“You know, I spent a lot of time taking care of my family, especially once I graduated. There was a lot I wasn’t able to do. Travel, research, field work- hell, I even considered trying out for a big quidditch team. It all got put on the back burner.” You hated the small twinge of resentment that still pulled at your heart; you would never have turned your back on them, your small broken family, but it was just so hard. Hard to watch them deteriorate, unable to do a thing. 

“Are you alright?” Earnest gently wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You realized your vision had become misty. 

“Oh, yes- yeah I’m alright.” You took the mug he offered you and drank, clearing your throat. “Anyway, when Dumbledore reached out, offering to let me come back, I was ecstatic. I’d be able to do something, make something of myself. When I ended up in potions I knew things would be rough, but not like this.” You laughed bitterly. Your favorite form of magic was the thing you had wanted to avoid the most when you came back to Hogwarts. 

“Listen [First Name], I know it's rough going but I believe in you.” He gave you a bright smile to match the vigor of his speech. “You’ve helped me and the other adjuncts since we got here- you're the only one of us who made it into seventh year potions. You’re smart, passionate, and you’ve got the ability; that’ll win out in the end. Just keep doing your best and I’m sure Snape will get bored and back off. Then when Dumbledore gets back you can figure something out.” 

Earnest’s big hazel eyes shone with hopeful optimism. Looking into them, you could feel the younger wizards sincere concern, his honest compassion. 

“Thank you Earnest. I appreciate it.” 

He gave your shoulder another sympathetic squeeze, “You’re welcome, [First Name].” He finished his drink and grabbed his bag, “I should go, I promised Filius I’d help him with some lesson plan stuff. But maybe after, we could go down to Hogsmeade or something? Help get your mind off it?” 

You smiled at his offer, but shook your head. “I’d love to, but Juniper needs my help in the greenhouses. Some new development with the hybrid plant she’s been working on all summer.” 

Earnest nodded and turned to leave, then paused and looked back to you. He seemed a bit unsure and started slowly. “I know you don’t like to talk about your past too much, but if you want, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, okay?” 

How could someone be so wonderfully sweet? 

You thanked him again with a smile, then playfully shooed him off. That envious feeling flickered over you for a brief moment as you watched him walk out of the great hall. 

The day was half done, and the unavoidable conflict was coming ever closer, you could feel it, like growing static waiting to spark a fire. And frankly, it bothered you. 

Why should you be the one agonizing over what to say? It was all on Snape, he should be the one to find you and apologize like a damned adult! But no, instead you were wondering what you would say to regain some sort of normalcy, trying to convince yourself that it would be better to be the bigger person, yet again, so that you could just move on. 

_Please Professor, let's just bury the hatchet! Please Professor, I’m sick of all the fighting! Please Professor, stop being such an all-mighty twat and let me work in peace!_

No. No more thinking about it– you wouldn't let thoughts of Snape get you angry and annoyed and ruin your day. 

You polished off your tea and headed out. You had promised Juniper help with her work and that's just what you’d do– pour all of yourself in it and collapse for the night, with absolutely no time to think about anything else.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution of sorts.

_**1 October 1990**  
_

The hazel tree’s leaves rustled above your head with the cool autumn breeze. It sent a delightful chill down your spine and you pulled your robes tighter. The sun was just starting to dip beneath the castle walls, giving the small courtyard a soft, golden glow. You looked out from under the tree with half-lidded eyes. A few students were scattered about, quietly enjoying the evening. 

Oh yes, this was the perfect way to bring the day to a close. After the rough week you had it felt wonderful to just relax in a comfortable spot and forget about everything; you could easily fall asleep here.

“Hey back off!”

“Why don't you make me?!”

The loud shrieks from across the courtyard instantly snapped you out of your lull. 

Ugh, not now please, you groan, and tilt your head towards the sound of the shouts. Two boys- a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw- were staring each other down, and starting to attract a small crowd of students. Maybe if you give it a minute they’ll just calm down on their own? 

“I said back off!” The Gryffindor lunged forward and took a clumsy swing at the Ravenclaw, who jumped to the side. 

O-kay, time to get up.

You shook off the lingering sleep and headed toward the small crowd of students. “Hey you two, break it up.” you called out as you approached, but no one seemed to notice or hear you, too focused on the fighting duo.

“Hah, you missed me, you puny, whiny twat!” the Ravenclaw taunted as the Gryffindor stumbled, caught himself, and turned back with a scowl. His lips were drawn tight, his brow furrowed in anger and he reached down into his pants pocket to pull out his wand- the Ravenclaw kept laughing. 

Your eyes widened, but you were nowhere near enough to stop it: the Gryffindor raised his wand up high and began the curse. “SLUGU-”

“That's quite enough!” Snape's hand snatched the Gryffindors wrist and gave it a hard yank, forcing the wand out of the boy's hand and to the ground. Snape’s harsh bark had the small crowd immediately scrambling and running away, but his hard glare was directed solely on the two boys. 

The Ravenclaw boy stood frozen and ashen in terror, his eyes darting, trying to consider if it was worth making a run for it with the others. Snape's eyes narrowed, “Just try it Strix.” His voice was low and dangerous, and even the captured Gryffindor sunk back.

While the boys were frozen in terror, you wanted to scream. Because of _course_ it would be Snape who would just suddenly appear, sweeping in with a swish of billowing black robes, to take charge of the situation. You just couldn’t get away, not a single weekend without him finding you somewhere, somehow. Wasn’t this castle supposed to be huge? 

You forced yourself to step forward. “Are you both alright?” 

“Good of you to finally join us, [Last Name].” Snape spat.

“You can let go of him now.” You said, ignoring Snape's jab. One of you could be professional at least. 

He waited a beat, pretending to consider it, before letting the boy's wrist go. Relief washed over the Gryffindors face and he practically ran to stand beside you. Strix had also decided you were a perfect cover from Snape’s wrath and lingered to your right.

“Are either of you hurt?” you repeated the question, giving them a quick look over.

“The two are perfectly fine, [Last Name].” Snape's voice answered impatiently. He picked up the wand from the ground and pointed at the two of them. “Kettles! Strix! No use in hiding, front and center, now.” He ordered. The two slunk away from you and stood before him.

“Care to explain why you two have decided to lose your houses twenty five points each?” Snape’s sarcasm flew directly over the first year Gryffindor’s head. 

“I didn’t want to lose points, Professor, but he started it!” Kettles wailed. 

“Stop your whining.” Snape looked down at the boy with obvious distaste. “I’m not surprised to see a Gryindor instigating a fight.” He turned to Strix, “But to see the oh so clever Ravenclaw pulled down to his level. Tsk. Tsk.” 

Strix’s face flushed in guilty shame at Snape’s words. He hadn’t so much been pulled into a fight, as much as he had started teasing Kettles, who wasn’t going to let the teasing slide.

Regardless, Snape’s whole spiel peeved you. 

“Hold on now, you don’t even know what happened.”

“And you do?”

“Oh, well no, but-”

“As I see it, these two were fighting on school grounds and Kettles was about to cast a curse. That’s cause enough for expulsion, boy.” His eyes fixed on the Gryffindor, whose face twisted in horror. 

“That’s much too harsh for a first time infraction, Professor.” You marveled at how quickly and easily you could defend the two students against his venom, but when he had his sights on you, you had to fight to keep from crying.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine. Two weeks detention, starting tomorrow. You can thank Professor [Last Name]’s bleeding heart.”

Snape then turned toward the veranda outlining the courtyard and motioned for a figure who was walking by. The figure stepped out into the courtyard and jogged over to them- a Gryffindor prefect.

“Yes Professor?”

“Take these two to their dormitories, and let McGonagall and Flitwick know they’ll be hearing from me.” Snape handed the prefect the wand, and the prefect led the two silent boys away.  


You watched their forms disappear and swallowed hard. Oh no. No, no, no. Damn it. Crap.

Once again, Snape had been able to find you and trap you. This time it had just happened so fast you hadn’t even realized it. You breathed in slowly; this wasn’t like the last time when he found you in the halls. This time he was at fault. It was on Snape to ask for your forgiveness.

But fat chance of that happening. 

“It seems I’ve caught you again [Last Name].” 

Snape’s voice cut through the thick and awkward tension that had settled in the space between you. He eyed you up and down critically, and for a split second you felt a bit embarrassed; you still had on your casual work clothes, and after a day of helping Hagrid wrangle a litter of crup pups, you were messy and dirty. 

You crossed your arms in front of you and shifted uncomfortably, but kept your voice flat. “Yes, I’m starting to think you’re stalking me.”

He rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “Have you spoken to Dumbledore about moving departments?”

Straight to the point eh?

“No I wasn't able to. Looks like the Headmaster left Hogwarts on some business. He won't be back until the end of October.”

“And you spoke with Minerva?” 

You thought back to what Minerva had said, basically telling you to suck it up and deal with it, until you could plead your case with Dumbledore. Then you thought about her suggestion to talk to him herself.

“She thinks it's best we wait for Dumbleore to return before we make a change. Unfortunately, for the time being, I’ll have to stay where I’m at.” You didn't bother trying to hide the despondency in your voice.

Snape nodded, easily accepting your explanation. It was actually a little worrying, how he didn’t seem surprised. Not about Dumbledore being gone, or about Minerva's insistence on you staying put. You felt a knot in your stomach; Minerva wouldn’t take it upon herself to talk to him anyway would she? 

You shook if out of your mind. It didn’t matter because nothing she could say would make a difference. You had thought about it over and over– played it all out in your head– and you knew what you had to say; you were going to have to be the bigger person, _again_. 

Snape would never come out and just admit he was wrong or that he was sorry. You could already hear him: _‘I don’t care about your feelings [Last Name], and Dumbledore isn’t here to save you! I’ll expect you Monday to continue your due diligence to this department!’_

It made you shake in anger, but it was better to just get it over with. 

“Listen, I get you don’t like me, or trust me, or even want me in Potions at all, but for now I’m stuck.” You tried to keep your voice level, to keep it from cracking. “I don’t want to let Dumbledore, or the school, down; I just want to do the best I can, so– like it or not– we’re going to have to come to an understanding.”

“Funny, as it seems Dumbledore has let _you_ down by setting you up to fail from the start. He sent you to me afterall.” 

Your brows furrowed and you glared at his derisive tone. _Don’t speak that way about Dumbledore!_ The thought rang loudly in your head; it was thanks to him you were here at all. Snape continued before you could voice your anger.

“Nevertheless, I can admit you have proven yourself… _adequate._ ” 

Snape turned to you fully now, and his demeanor suddenly and palpably changed, intensified. Those dark endless eyes seemed to catch you whole and anchor you to your spot.

“The question is, why are you _really_ here [Last Name]?”

The question caught you off guard and you did nothing to hide the confusion that bloomed on your face. What was this all of a sudden? 

“I’m not sure I understand? Why am I here, like, at Hogwarts?”

Snape inclined his head and took a step toward you, “Are you here due to some sense of duty or obligation? Or is there something you're trying to escape?”

He spoke carefully, stepping around the things he now knew. All the painful things you had unwittingly and inadvertently put on display for him. It was better to draw them out from you, to have you voluntarily fill in the blanks. 

“Well...I’m here for a new start.” You shifted on your feet again. Maybe you could take a chance and speak sincerely? 

“I guess you could call this an escape. I… I spent a lot of time hiding away. Being here, it’s my chance to start fresh– to start over, free from the past.” His sudden snort of bitter laughter did nothing to mitigate your confusion. 

“ _‘Free from the past.’_ ” Snape repeated your words, thick with hidden meaning, and his face suddenly clouded.

In the dark courtyard, Snape seemed to have slipped into a far off memory; a memory of anguish and mistakes, and of dark unspoken secrets you couldn’t fathom. The flickering candle light from the castle behind you cast strange moving shadows across his form. It played with your eyes– was that a flutter of guilt on his face? Of regret? 

You unconsciously took a few steps backwards.

This.. this was incredibly unnerving. You were ready for another blow out; ready to make yourself heard and demand that he take you seriously. The possibility that things might get violent had even crossed your mind; you hadn’t let your wand out of your sight, just in case. But this mysterious behavior left you utterly deflated.

Then the spell broke. 

“Severus?” you said hesitantly.

“Fine. Until the headmaster returns, just what do you propose?” His sharp tone had blessedly returned. 

You swallowed dryly, queuing up the speech you had prepared.

“I’ll do my work, and I’ll be respectful of your space, if you do the same. No more undermining me, or testing me, or any of that rubbish. I can try to forget about all the nonsense that has been said and done if it means we have peace. But you have to understand that I’m responsible for these kids too, and I can’t tolerate that kind of disrespect from my students, especially if they're taking cues from you. Please, let’s just make it work– at least until the end of October.”

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment. “And if I refuse?”

Alright, now he was just taking the piss.

“Then I’ll just throw myself in the damn lake. I’m sure the giant squid won’t mind the company!” You snapped back, exasperated. 

His nostrils flared and he indulged in a smug smirk.

“A truce then.” 

“Yes, a truce!” You practically shouted, ready to end this, and stuck out your hand to him impulsively. It was a pointless gesture, you realized– he would probably find shaking hands completely silly.

But to your surprise, Snape reached out. His pale hand enveloped yours; calloused, yet smooth and cool. It sent a strange uncomfortable shiver up your arm; your fingertips brushed against the edge of his sleeve as you hastily tore your hand away.

“R-right then, Monday! I’ll be in the dungeons Monday– tomorrow night– like we agreed.” 

He gave you a closing nod and walked away, leaving you in the dark of the courtyard confused and unsettled.

When you were sure he was gone you let out a tired sob, and plopped down on the nearest stone bench. That was the most disconcerting encounter you’d ever had with the potions master. And it had left you inexplicably exhausted. 

You rubbed your eyes and laid back on the cold stone, inhaling the crisp night air, watching the plumes of your breath rise and dissolve into the darkness.

That hadn’t turned out exactly how you wanted, but you figured that was probably the best you could hope for. For now, you resolved to take things day by day. This whole ‘conversation’– or whatever it was, you thought with a shiver– would be the last time you offered you up an olive branch. Now it would just be a waiting game until the end of October.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, earlier then I expected! Two new chapters to celebrate, because I’m not going to leave you wonderful folks on a cliffhanger for another week lol!
> 
> I just want to thank everyone for the incredible support, patience, and wonderful comments! ♡  
> It really helps to encourage me knowing you are all enjoying my writing!
> 
> This chapter has been one of the hardest yet to write- I reworked it so many times trying to get it right!!  
> I hope things are making sense so far, when it comes to all of our characters motivations. I would love any and all feedback, especially for this chapter! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading friends, and I'll try and have the next chapter out as soon as possible! ♡♡


	12. Chapter 12

_**2 October 1990** _

The Quicker Fix’er Elixir was strong and bitter, but luckily it left no after taste, and you swallowed down your dose fast. You chased it with a potion for the headache that had developed since last night.

Last night after that bewildering encounter with Snape.

You shook off the heebie-jeebies that crept up your back. All that mattered was a ceasefire was agreed upon. An end to the nonsense. But even so, you were left with a weird feeling about it. Like, maybe you had seen something you shouldn’t have– a locked door shrouded in fog that shouldn’t have been noticed. . . 

It did no good to linger on it, you decided to yourself with a final huff, and shoved it all to the back of your mind.You had work to do and it was time to get back to it at full throttle. You locked your chambers behind you and started off to the dungeons.

As you neared Snape’s office, you realized that the door to the potions classroom was wide open, light spilling out through the doorway.

“What in the world?” It was after dinner, who would be in there now? You stepped into the classroom and your eyes went wide in astonishment. 

“Dear Merlin, what happened here?”

The potions classroom was in complete disarray. The tables were covered in spills and splotches of unknown ingredients. Cauldrons, dirty dishes, vials, and stirring tools were upturned and littered on said tables. The floor was covered in pieces of scrapped and crumbled parchment, random bits, crumbs, and smears. Even the large scales on the far table that students used to measure ingredients, were tangled and on their sides.

Snape stood over a small desk tucked into a corner, sorting through stacks of parchment. He looked up when you walked in and smirked at your astonished face. 

“We’ll be working here tonight, instead of my office.” He tapped on a stack of parchment. “The second year quizzes still need to be finished, and the third years have just turned in their essays on the Girding Potion.”

You nodded in vague agreement. “Yeah, sure… Did someone attack or something? What happened?” 

“My seventh years came in for a bit of extra credit.” He said, feigning indifference. Then he pretended to study the scene critically and he tapped his chin. “I suppose they were a bit eager in their work.”

“Just a bit huh.” 

A hard knock at the doorway of the class interrupted, and the two students from yesterday stepped in. The Gryfindor, Kettles, had his hands in his pocket, trying to play cool and unbothered, while the Ravenclaw, Strix, had a stubborn frown on his face. But when they took in the state of the room their eyes went wide and their mouths dropped. 

“We’re here for our detention Professors.” 

Snape turned to them with a flourish. “Wands. Now.” He snatched them out of their hands and motioned to the room. “The two of you will be cleaning every inch of this room by hand. If it takes you all night, you won’t be leaving until every cauldron is scrubbed and every dish is dried and put away. Supplies are in the back closet– get to it.”

Kettles groaned and gave Strix a nudge with his elbow and muttered, “Told ya we’d be cleanin’.” He seemed resigned to the punishment, and shook himself out of his burgundy sweater to drape carefully over one of the chairs. 

Strix, on the other hand, was incensed and stared after Snape, who had already taken a seat behind the small corner desk. “This isn’t fair, we can’t clean all of this in one night! It’s too much!” He looked over at Kettles to see if he would agree, but Kettles gave him scowl and headed for the closet at the far end of the room. “I have History of Magic homework and a test in Charms tomorrow morning. I can’t be stuck here all night!”

“Then I suggest you stop blathering like a fool and get. To. It.” Snape answered coldly. 

Finally, Strix looked up at you, his eyes pleading. But there wasn’t a thing you could do. Yeah Snape was kind of being a jerk, getting the seventh years to come in and create a disaster, but administering detention was left to the professor's discretion. You yourself had suffered a good handful of detentions at the hand of the potions master so– while you could empathize -– you knew arguing or complaining would be pointless.

“It’s best to get started.” you told him softly, “Professor Snape isn’t kidding- he won’t let you leave till it’s done.” Strix huffed, but turned to join Kettles, who was still looking through the supply closet. 

You pulled up a spare chair and took a seat. An awkward tension fell on you, now that you sat in front of him. As you got out your things, you peeked over at him, trying to discreetly study his face. Maybe you had imagined all those things last night? Perhaps those flashes of regret and pain had just been tricks of the light?

Snape, to his credit, didn’t say anything or even look at you, instead examining a small vial of dark blue potion. The vial in his hand glowed faintly with the charm he cast wordlessly. Looking carefully at the twisting wisps of light, his eyes flickered and he jotted down a note into the open grade book in front of him, before picking up another vial.

“Planning on doing any work, [Last Name], or should I start on those quizzes myself?” His testy question snapped you out of your small daze. You undid the stopper on your red ink pot and pulled the first stack of quizzes toward you. 

Quiz grading was easy, and after a few minutes you were comfortably absorbed in your work. You noted that this felt like a nice change– the class room felt much less claustrophobic then Snape’s office, and the sound of the two boys working was nice background static. But you had to admit that you missed the old worn armchair; despite being a bit small, it was wonderfully cozy and always had a faint, pleasant smell of clove and bergamot.

You moved to adjust your position on the hard wooden stool at the same moment Snape had reached out a hand to grab one of your graded quizzes for review. 

“Hey stop it! You’re making a bigger mess!” 

Strix gave Kettles a shove and held the broom and dustpan away at arms length. “No I’m not, you are! Just let me do the sweeping and we’ll get done faster! Go scrub the cauldrons.”

“Quiet you two!” Snape barked out, “I’ll get rid of the brooms and have you cleaning off the floor by hand.”

The two blanched at the suggestion and quieted down, muttering angrily to each other instead. Snape rolled his eyes and, without a glance at your quiz, he placed it back down in the stack and went back to the potions.

You hid your grin behind a parchment. Well that was interesting; he didn’t even bother to look at it. Was he really that easily exasperated by the two boys arguing? 

You’d soon find out because the quiet didn’t last- the two continued their fighting, prompting continued threats from Snape. Fortunately, for you, their timing was delightfully perfect.

Every time Snape was about to grab one of your parchments, or was about to say something sarcastic when you had to stop for a moment to stretch or rest your eyes, the two behind you started shouting at each other, throwing rags or debris, and making a bigger mess. You felt immensely grateful for their troublemaking– you couldn't imagine doing this without them here to take attention off of you.

But it made you think back to your own first few years at Hogwarts. Were you ever just as rambunctious and wild as them? Well, maybe not as wild, but certainly just as mischievous.

“Something funny [Last Name]?” Snape gave you a hard look; you didn’t realize you had started giggling to yourself.

“Hmm? Oh no, no. This essay is just,” you waved the parchment in your hands. “I need a Girding potion just to get through it.” you joked lamely. 

Snape arched his brow, but before he could respond, a loud hollow clang came from the back of the classroom. You suspected one of the heavier pewter cauldrons had been dropped. He shot up from his seat, his teeth gritted in anger.

You could see the growing frustration twisted on his face and for a moment felt a small pang of guilt. You were probably enjoying the two boys’ horseplay just a bit too much.

“I’ll talk to them, Snape.” You offered and got out of your chair. “I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

The two were straightening up a table when you approached them. 

“What happened?” you asked. They glanced at each other and shook their heads.

“Nothing Professor.” Kettles stepped forward, “We just dropped a bowl. But it didn’t break and we’re done now anyway. So can we leave?” 

Strix, standing beside him, nodded in agreement, but you caught his eyes and looked deep. He was practically screaming– _Don’t look at the big cauldron!_

“Is that so?” You reached for the big cauldron on the table beside them and turned it over, spotting the giant dent on the side immediately. “You are both terrible liars.” You glanced back at the desk where Snape sat, but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes were focused on the classroom door. 

“Please Professor, it was an accident!” Strix whispered. “We weren’t fighting this time– honest!”

You gauged the looks on their faces, urgent and apologetic. Well, it probably wouldn’t do them any good to have Snape blow up again tonight. Probably not any good for Snape either, the way his face was scrunched up and tense from having to deal with them.

“Alright you two, I’ll take care of it, but no more of this nonsense– for the next two weeks of detention at least, I need you to behave. Trust me, you don’t want to keep getting on Professor Snape’s nerves like this.”

They nodded in agreement and you led them up toward the desk. 

“Professor, they’re all done and- ” Snape held up his hand to silence you. 

“Do you hear that?” He glared at the door suspiciously, and, before you had a chance to answer, stood and swept out of the room. 

“Whelp, I guess it’s gonna be a bit longer.” you shrugged and sat back down on your chair. “Sorry guys.”

The Ravenclaw sniffed and crossed his arms. “He’s probably off to give someone else detention for doing nothing at all.”

“Not for nothing, you wouldn’t quit bugging me, you toad.” Kettles hissed. 

Strix made a face at that. “You wouldn’t leave me alone first. Besides it's all Snape’s fault anyway.”

Kettles nodded emphatically, “Yeah, twenty-five points and two weeks detention is too much. The guy is such a jerk.” He half mumbled that last bit, but it made you sit up a bit straighter.

“He’s a stinky spiteful snake. Cold hearted and venomous.” Strix’s eyes twinkled, and he laughed at his own joke. 

“No, more like a buggered old bat! Especially with those creepy black robes!” Kettles added, starting to giggle, bolder now that Strix joined in. 

“Bet he eats nothing but blood and guts just like a bat!”

“He probably eats souls, just like You-Know-W– ”

“Stop that now!” you snapped sharply. The two jumped back and shut their mouths instantly, startled by your raised voice. You stared at them with open incredulity; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Did you two forget I am standing right here? I’m appalled by your language and disrespect. Professor Snape can be harsh and difficult, but don’t blame him for your punishment or speak like that about him.”

“B-but Professor, we heard that he was bullying you too.” Kettles offered weakly.

“Yeah, we heard about that class from the fourth years and how you told him off– Snape just likes to make everyone miserable.” Strix added.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes. This really wouldn't do; you couldn’t have the students thinking you two were enemies and that they could bad mouth Snape in front of you. And while they weren't necessarily wrong– he definitely wasn't your friend– you had to nip this kind of behavior in the bud, before it got out of hand.

“Listen you two, while I don’t agree with him on everything, I don’t ever want to hear you speak so disrespectfully about Professor Snape– or any other faculty for that matter. He is a master of the subject and a powerful wizard; There is a reason he is a professor here and you will do well to remember it. Understood?”

The two seemed confused to hear you defend him so ardently, but agreed and muttered apologies.

In all honesty, that little speech had left a sour taste in your mouth. It felt hypocritical to be stern about being disrespectful, when he couldn’t extend you the same courtesy; had in fact, tried to stir up trouble. The way that Slytherin girl spoke to you, the way Snape had just stood back. 

The door to the classroom flung open suddenly and Snape walked back in. He shot you a peculiar glance before turning to the students. Without a word, he started scrutinizing every cleaned table, all the stacked dishes, and scrubbed cauldrons. Finally he waved a hand, “Dismissed.”

You handed the two their wands and gave them a meaningful look. “Remember what I said– and straight to your dorms, it’s almost curfew.” you called to them as they scrambled out of the classroom. 

The class was disturbingly quiet now that the boys were gone. Snape let them leave pretty easily too; thank goodness, he must not have heard what they said.

“Well that was… interesting.” you said into the stillness and reached for your bag to grab your wand. “I never thought I’d see detention from the other side before.”

Snape snorted and followed behind you as you went for that busted up cauldron. He scowled when you turned it on it’s side and began casting small useless charms on the large dent. 

“I knew those two brats were hiding something.”

“Eh, it was an accident. They were done otherwise.” you answered nonchalantly. “Besides, did you really want them around any longer?” He made a small noise of concession and you continued. “You could have just worked from your office. Why stick around? Just to supervise? ”

“I don’t trust those two alone in my classroom. And I was clearly right not to.”

Snape arched a brow as he watched you struggle with the small charms before he reached over and slowly floated his hand over the cauldron. The dented metal dipped down like it was melting for a second, before inflating up and rounding out neatly. 

Okay, that was impressive. 

“Am I to assume you spent the entire summer taking out cauldron dents by hand?”

“No, not all summer.” You set the cauldron straight again, “Just half. The other half I spent waist deep in armadillo bile.” 

The short snicker from him almost bowled you over and you gave him a wondering stare. You didn’t think he could laugh– well t least not at some dumb quip. Laughs from him were cruel or at someone’s expense.

Snape straightened up when he saw the look you were giving him. “That’s enough for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll work in my office.”

“What about detention for the Troubled Two?” 

“Not your concern.” He turned and walked away from you, ending the conversation. 

You threw a glare at the back of his dark head. Oh yes, defending him in front of the students was definitely hard. They were right after all; he was as cold as the snake that adorned his house's crest.


End file.
